


Adopted

by Setcheti



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: April Showers 2015, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Horror, Mind Control, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setcheti/pseuds/Setcheti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team brings something back from the planet they were exploring, and Carson adopts it. Or did it adopt him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adopted

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, you may have to suspend a whole bunch of disbelief to read this, but the idea just wanted _out_ that badly for some reason and it kept bugging me until I'd finished it. Very much monster of the week, and could be Rodney/John if you squint.

It was a beautiful planet the Stargate opened out into, a beautiful valley thick with lush green vegetation, squat but healthy trees…and a wrecked ship.  A small wrecked ship, smaller even than the puddle jumper Major Sheppard was flying overhead.  And it was a very recently wrecked ship, smoke still spiraling lazily up into the still air.  Sheppard set down in a hurry, hoping that there was something they could do. 

There wasn’t. 

It was obvious the pilot was dying, sort of amazing he wasn’t already dead…and to the point of being miraculous that the unconscious child lying beside his crushed body in the twisted wreckage seemed unharmed except for some blood on its cherubic, rosy face and some scorched rips and tears in the little gown it was wearing. 

The man opened his eyes when they entered the wrecked ship, tried to speak to them when they drew near and shook his head when they tried to see if they could help him.  “Ch-child…” he managed to rasp out, waving one burned, bloody arm in the child’s direction.  “My…baby…” 

“We’ll take care of the baby for you, I promise.”  Sheppard knelt down beside the man, as close as he could get in the wreckage, while Teyla saw to the child a few feet away.  “It’s okay, we’re the good guys.  If you can tell me where you’re from, we’ll take your child home.” 

But the man just shook his head, smiled…and died.  Sheppard stayed where he was for a moment, examining the other pilot’s injuries with morbid fascination – and because he knew Beckett would ask as soon as they got back and reported what had happened.  Lower body crushed when the pilot’s console had folded in on itself during the crash, upper body impaled on twisted metal from the shredded hull, and face speckled with shrapnel cuts from flying debris that had also apparently inflicted a much more serious – possibly even fatal – gaping wound on his neck.  “Teyla,” he called over.  “How’s the kid?” 

“Alive, unconscious.”  She was picking the child up, nestling blond curls against her shoulder.  “How is the pilot?” 

“Dead.”  Sheppard stood up, took one last look and then turned away.  “Let’s get out of here – last thing we need is for the kid to wake up and see its old man like this.” 

“No, that would not be wise.  We need to get the child to Dr. Beckett so he can examine it.” 

“Yeah, we need to do that too.”  He jumped down out of the wreckage, let her hand him the warm sleeping weight of the child and then handed it back as soon as she’d jumped down to join him.  Ford came running over, gun still at the ready, and goggled at them.  “You aren’t naming it,” Sheppard snapped at him before his mouth was halfway open. 

The younger man contrived to look offended.  “I wasn’t…” 

“Yes, you were – you had that ‘I’m going to name something’ look on your face.”  Sheppard looked around.  “What happened to McKay?” 

“He’s still trying to figure out what made the ship crash.”  Ford shrugged and waved an arm vaguely toward the rear of the wrecked ship.  “Last I saw of him, he was poking through the wreckage over there.” 

“Last you saw of him?”  Sheppard didn’t like the sound of that, but before he could become too alarmed the man they’d been discussing appeared at a run with his hands full of metal scraps.  “And here he is.  McKay, what is all that?” 

The astrophysicist held out one of the scraps.  “I think we should get out of here – now.” 

Sheppard took the scrap, looked it over, and scowled.  “Dammit.  Carbon scoring,” he explained to Ford and Teyla.  “Someone shot this ship down.” 

 

 They made it back to the Stargate in record time,  calling for Beckett as soon as the wormhole had been established to tell him what they were bringing back with them.  The doctor met them in the jumper bay and whisked the still-unconscious child away, throwing disparaging comments back over his shoulder as he left about people who were ‘rarin’ to go when it comes to fightin’ bad guys but  too bloody timid to look inside a diaper’. 

No one denied it, even though the truth was that none of them had really thought of checking to see whether they’d rescued a boy or a girl during their mad dash back to the Gate.  The argument over what gender the child was continued through their briefing with Dr. Weir and right down the city’s corridors all the way to the infirmary – after a call for the doctor from Weir’s office had failed to get a response.  “It could be some kind of monster,” Ford proposed, not for the first time. 

“While I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with putting children in that category, I think that if it was some kind of man-eating creature it would have gone after us on the jumper,” McKay argued back.  “Of course, it was unconscious…” 

“See?  It could be going after the infirmary staff right now!” 

Teyla smiled at the byplay, and Sheppard rolled his eyes.  “He’s just mad because I wouldn’t let him name it,” he commented to the Athosian woman.  “He’s probably afraid Dr. Beckett will beat him to it.”  Ford stuck out his tongue.  “I saw that, Lieutenant.” 

“Eyes in the back of his head,” McKay told the surprised younger man, nodding very seriously. “With his ATA gene, he can interface with the city’s sensors directly, you know – see everything that’s going on, anywhere, any time.” 

“He can?”  Ford caught up to his superior officer in two steps, peering around him and thereby missing the sight of McKay trying not to laugh behind him.  “You can?” 

Sheppard manfully held back a smirk; score one for Rodney.  “I’m not saying one way or the other.”  He looked down at Ford and smiled, a little too nicely.  “It’s not like you have anything to _hide_ , now is it?”   

Ford very wisely didn’t answer that, and by that point they’d arrived at the infirmary anyway so he was spared further embarrassment.  

Beckett was in the main part of the infirmary, and he had the child balanced on one hip.  “Wondered when you’d be down to see us,” the doctor said with a smile, waving them in.  “You’ll be happy to know this little one is no threat, and she’s just as healthy as can be – just needed a little bit of feedin’ up, that was all.” 

Sheppard smiled.  “So it’s a girl?” 

“No, not exactly – I  just didn’t like usin’ the word ‘it’ to refer to such a lovely little creature.  She’s hermaphroditic or somethin’ like it, not human at all.”  Carson didn’t seem to notice the eyebrows shooting up all over the room.  “She’s a Litch, you see, a very young one.” 

“A Litch, okay.”  The major filed that away for future reference.  “Does she talk?” 

“No, of course not.”  Carson chucked the child under the chin.  “She’s not nearly old enough for that, and her mouth and throat aren’t set up for it anyway.”  Before Sheppard could ask him how he’d figured out her species if the child couldn’t talk, though, the doctor was talking again.  “But I think she and I are communicatin’ just fine now.   She seems to have imprinted on me, so it looks like we’ll be keepin’ her.” 

“Imprinted?”  Ford was confused.  “You mean she thinks you’re her mother, like in that movie with the geese?” 

“Exactly like that, yes.  Once she’s mature she shouldn’t need me any more, but for the time bein’ tryin’ to separate her from me could be very damagin’.”  He cocked an eyebrow at Sheppard, who still looked unsure.  “Problem, Major?” 

Sheppard shook his head.  “Just trying to wrap my mind around it,” he explained.  “We only brought her back about an hour ago and now you’re her mother.  It just seems a little sudden.” 

“Imprintin’ happens very quickly,” Carson informed him, not seeming upset.  “Margot woke up almost directly as I’d got her back here and once she’d latched onto me…well, I knew in five minutes that she’d have to be stayin’.” 

“Margot?  This is what you have named her?”  When the doctor nodded Teyla smiled at him, stepping closer but not appearing surprised when the child pulled away at her approach.  “It is all right, little one, I will not hurt you.  It is a lovely name.” 

“I’d an aunt called Margot,” the doctor explained, shifting the child’s weight in his arms.   “It’s all right, my wee lassie, Teyla’s a friend.”  The little girl blinked wide blue eyes at the Athosian woman, cherubic face expressionless, and then burrowed into Carson’s arms.  He chuckled, rubbing her small back reassuringly.  “A bit shy, but she’ll soon outgrow that.” 

“Of course.  After losing her father in such a manner, this must all be quite overwhelming to her.” 

McKay had been watching from where he was, not trying to get any closer; children weren’t something he related to well.  “So she looks human but isn’t, right?  Will she outgrow looking this way?” 

The doctor shrugged around the burden in his arms.  “Possibly, yes, but I can’t be sure.  I suppose we’ll just be findin’ that out when and if it happens.” 

Sheppard wasn’t sure he liked Carson’s ‘wait and see’ approach – and he could tell by the look on Rodney’s face that the astrophysicist didn’t think much of it either – but there wasn’t really anything either of them could say about it.  So neither of them did, and after Teyla had cooed over the child a little more they all left the infirmary and went back to work.  Weir announced the next day that Carson was the alien orphan child’s guardian, and that was that. 

 

Just over a month went by.  A lot of things had happened, some of them not very good, but luck had been with Sheppard’s team and none of them had been patients in the infirmary during that whole time.  Even today, with Rodney McKay trailing along beside him as they turned into the main part of Carson’s lair, Sheppard wasn’t visiting for medical reasons; they’d found a little scanner-type instrument a few days previous, and it had turned out to be something the doctor might be able to use so the two men were planning to ask him if he’d like to take a trip to the area they’d found it in to see if they’d possibly stumbled upon an Ancient medical clinic or something like it.    

Carson was in his office and didn’t want to be disturbed, according to the medical personnel on duty.  That was enough for McKay.  “We can come back later,” he informed his team leader.  “Or one of us can just send him an e-mail.  I have some work I need to do…” 

“You can do it when we’re done here,” Sheppard informed him, frowning.  If he let McKay go back to the labs now, there’d be no prying him back out for days without the scientist throwing the mother of all hissy fits.  Carson would just have to deal with being interrupted.  “You stay right where you are, Rodney, I mean it.  I’ll go let our good doctor know that we’re here.” 

That had been as much for Carson’s staff as it had been for Rodney, and nobody got in Sheppard’s way as he walked across the infirmary to Beckett’s office and opened the door. “Dr. Beckett, we’ve got something here we think you’ll want to…” And then he saw the doctor, and his mouth dropped open. Every time Sheppard had seen Margot she’d been somehow connected to the doctor, clinging to his leg or in his arms…but now she was literally attached to him, her perfect little mouth latched onto the side of his neck, very obviously sucking while he perused a sheaf of paperwork.  “What the…is she drinking your blood?!”  

Carson didn’t look at all bothered; he merely ruffled the child’s curls and continued reading, barely even casting a glance up at the startled man in the doorway.  “Oh that.  It’s all right, she’s not hurtin’ me.  That’s just the way she feeds.” 

He said it like he was announcing the time, and Sheppard’s eyes narrowed as he took a step forward.  A cautious step, he hadn’t forgotten that this ‘child’ wasn’t as human as it looked.  “Carson, has she been…um, feeding off of anyone else?” 

“Oh no, of course not.”  He ruffled the curls again.  “It’s me she’s imprinted on, you know.  It’s sort of like the way a ducklin’ or such will imprint on whoever is there when it hatches, somethin’ like that.  I told you this before, remember?” 

Another step.  John was remembering, all right.  He was remembering the spider-creature that had attached itself to him in much the same way this…thing was latched on to the doctor.  “How many times a day does she feed?” 

The doctor’s forehead wrinkled in thought.  “I was keepin’ a record at first, but she doesn’t seem to keep to a regular schedule.”  He shrugged.  “Most babies don’t.  I encourage her to eat about every four hours.” 

“Every four…”  Sheppard spared a glance back and saw McKay right at his shoulder, blue eyes wide with horror.  “Carson, how much blood is she taking in at each feeding, or do you know?” 

The doctor was starting to look irritated.  “I already _told_ you she’s not hurtin’ me.  Just what exactly is the problem, gentlemen?” 

“Our problem is that you’ve got something that looks like a little kid but isn’t sucking your blood like some kind of mini vampire.”  Sheppard had stopped advancing when the doctor had stiffened – because the child-thing had stiffened too.  He held out a placating hand.  “Carson, we’re worried about you, okay?  I hadn’t really seen you since we dropped Margot off the day we found her… you don’t look so good, you’re pale and you look tired.  And isn’t Margot…growing?  Maybe she needs more to eat than you can give her without hurting yourself.  Had you thought of that?” 

“No, I hadn’t.”  Carson’s irritation immediately became concern, and he quickly felt over the little body in his arms as thought making sure it wasn’t wasting away. “She seems fine, but we’ll have a look once she’s done feedin’.” 

“Okay.” Sheppard nodded. “And once you’re done with that, we found a scanner that’s testing out as medical in nature. We wanted to take you to the place we found it, see if you could identify anything else that might be useful.” 

Carson nodded. “Give me about thirty minutes. Margo will be havin’ a nap once she’s done feedin’, and then I’ll go have a quick look.” He smiled in the besotted, apologetic way that new parents have. “She’s too small to be leavin’ with a sitter for long, you know.” 

Sheppard gave him a smile. “Yeah, I know. Okay then, we’ll come back in thirty.” He nudged the still-staring Rodney back out of the doorway and pulled the door closed…and then he grabbed Rodney’s arm and hauled him across the infirmary before he could say anything. 

Rodney recovered himself once they were out in the hall, tugging against the tight grip on his arm. “We can’t just…” 

“We’ll have to, for now.” Sheppard turned hard eyes on him. “We’re idiots. Litch…he meant _leech_. It’s a leech. Which means that pilot we found wasn’t her – it’s – daddy, he was her food.” 

“All the more reason…” 

“Rodney, the pilot had a huge gash in his neck,” Sheppard insisted, “and at the time I thought the lack of blood around it was because he was already bleeding out lower down. What if it was Margot who did that so she could gorge herself on his blood while she had the chance? He was dying, she’d be out of food once he was gone and she knew it.” He swallowed. “We thought she was unconscious, but…” 

“She was sated, and sleeping it off,” Rodney finished for him, looking a little green. “So whoever shot him down…” 

“Knew. Could have even been his own people.” Sheppard ran a hand through his hair. “They were probably trying to stop her, not him – maybe they were even trying to save him from her, who knows. But I bet that’s why there were no signs of anyone landing to check the wreckage, they wouldn’t have dared.” 

Rodney’s shoulders slumped. “And you think that if we’d tried to remove her just now, she’d have done to Carson what she did to ‘Daddy’.” 

“Or she might have done it to one of us while he just sat there and watched, he’s acting brainwashed.” They had been walking fast, and Sheppard detoured into one of the biology labs, Rodney right behind him. “I was afraid to say anything in the infirmary, but someone down here has got to know something about how leeches work.” 

“Dr.  Zhu.” Rodney steered him into a different lab. “She does fish, and she works with Dr.  Carmichael, who does amphibians. One of them should know something.” 

Sheppard ran his hand through his hair again. “I certainly hope they do. Because we’ve only got thirty minutes to come up with a plan.” 

 

Dr. Zhu, it turned out, knew quite a bit about leeches, and confirmed that attacking Margot while she was feeding could have been fatal for Carson. “If you don’t get them to detach voluntarily, you just leave a big bleeding hole where they were attached – you’d have torn his throat out pulling it off,” she said. Sheppard nodded that he had already known that. “Forcing it off could also make it regurgitate into the opening it’s using to feed. And it’s probably been pumping him full of all kinds of things anyway – anesthetic secretions to numb the bite area, anticoagulant enzymes to keep his blood flowing freely, possibly a coagulant enzyme to finish with so he doesn’t lose too much blood from the bite…” 

“Possibly even more enzymes or pheromones to keep him attached and complacent,” Dr. Carmichael chimed in. “It’s not unknown in nature, using chemical secretions to force another animal –even another species of animal – into caring for something else’s young or tolerating a parasite. Based on the behavior you describe from Dr. Beckett, I’d say that’s exactly what’s happened.” 

“How do we stop it?” Rodney wanted to know. “We can save him, right?” 

The two biologists looked at each other and shrugged. “I don’t know,” Carmichael answered honestly. “In some species the effects are permanent, but that’s usually because the offspring or the parasites consume the affected host. Separating the two of them and keeping them apart so it can’t add more chemicals to his system, maybe detoxing him to try to remove some of the alien contamination…it could work.” 

“Separate them first,” Zhu said. “If you can get the leech into a secure area, we can try to do some testing.” 

“It might be too dangerous for that,” Sheppard told her. “But we’re not letting it keep Carson, so you’ll get to test it dead if nothing else.” He checked his watch, grimaced. “We have to go, we’re out of time. Once we’ve got him away and secured, would you two be willing to go into the infirmary with some soldiers and get it? We have a detention cell it can go in for the time being, but right after eating it should be sleeping, right?” 

“At the very least it should be sluggish,” Carmichael confirmed. “Something to contain it in, like a small cage, would be safest for transporting it to the detention cell, though.” 

“And the soldiers will need filter masks, just in case the problems are airborne, but we can provide those.” Zhu waved them both away. “Go, we’ve got this – send the soldiers down and we’ll fill them in on what’s going on.” 

Sheppard went, calling for some Marines to come to the lab as he walked out, part of him eager to get Carson away from the leech thing he’d brought back to the city, part of him reluctant to go anywhere near the infirmary again without more backup knowing that a bloodsucking, brainwashing monster was in there. He patted his stunner nervously. It might work, if he needed to shoot the thing, but it also might not. 

He knew for a fact it would work on Carson, though. 

He and Rodney stayed out in the main part of the infirmary until Carson came out, and Sheppard shrugged at the doctor’s questioning look. “Hey, I had nieces and nephews – getting a kid to stay asleep once you put them down is darn near impossible when you’re alone with them, much less when there’s someone else in the room. Come on, let’s get down to the room we found, time’s a’wasting.” 

Carson followed him, and Rodney followed them both, doing something on the datapad he was carrying and muttering to himself. They made it down to the room without incident, Carson took a thorough if hurried look around and pronounced it to be most likely some sort of small clinic, possibly a specialist’s office, and then after taking pictures and making a plan to come back at another time with more personnel and equipment, they started heading back to the infirmary. 

Halfway there, Carson stopped dead in his tracks. “Carson?” Sheppard asked, worried. 

The doctor blinked. “Somethin’…somethin’s wrong with Margot,” he said, sounding almost like he was in a trance, or like he was hearing something no one else could hear. Then he shook it off and started to run. “Quick, somethin’s wrong! Someone’s hurtin’ her, I’ve got to get to her!” 

John pulled out the stunner and shot him. Rodney gave him a look, and he shook his head. “How did he know? And if he had that much of a connection going with Margot, how long would it have been before she let him know what was going on?” He knelt beside the doctor’s still body and checked to make sure he was still breathing. “I think he’ll be okay. Come on, help me pick him up and we’ll get him to the infirmary…and once his people have him, we can go down to the holding cell and see what Zhu and Carmichael have found out.” 

“Hopefully they haven’t found out that the cage wasn’t enough,” Rodney contributed.  

 

The two men delivered Carson back to the infirmary, and then sorted through the infirmary staff; two people were in custody for attacking the soldiers who had taken Margot, and Sheppard ordered the others to restrain them and find out if she’d been feeding off of them or influencing them in some other way. He also warned them to restrain their boss, just in case. “That thing has some kind of hold over him,” he told them. “He stopped stock-still in the middle of a corridor halfway across the city and started saying someone was hurting ‘his little girl’ – there’s no telling what he’ll do when he wakes up from the stunner, but I’m not taking any chances.” 

One of the assistants was shaking her head. “I just can’t believe that cute little black-haired baby was a monster! It looked just like my little sister did when she was a toddler.” 

Sheppard shook his head like he hadn’t heard her right, and Rodney’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, black-haired? The child you saw had _black_ hair?” She looked puzzled, but nodded, and the scientist swallowed hard. He tapped his earpiece. “Teyla, can you come to the infirmary right now? It’s important.” Sheppard started to say something, but Rodney cut him off with a wave of his hand. “No, not a word, not a single word.” His blue eyes raked over the rest of the staff. “All of you, I want you to get something and write down exactly what the baby looked like – eyes, hair, skin, everything. Don’t share with each other, either, just write it down and then give it to me.” 

He had a handful of paper scraps by the time Teyla came hurrying in. “Dr. McKay, what is wrong?” 

Rodney looked her in the eye. “Teyla, can you describe Margot for me? The exactly way she looked when we rescued her from that crashed ship?” 

The Athosian woman shrugged. “She looked almost like one of our children would.” 

Sheppard had gotten it now. “So, hair about the same color as yours, light brown skin, dark eyes?” She nodded. He tapped his earpiece. “Ford, describe Carson’s adopted baby for me. Yes, the way she looked when we found her in that wreck…” He paled noticeably. “Okay, yeah, that’s what I thought. No, just a little problem, but it’s being taken care of. I’ll call if I need you.” He tapped again and very slowly lowered his hand, locking eyes with Rodney. “He saw an African-American baby, although he thought she might be mixed race.” 

Rodney held up the paper scraps. “Almost every one of them different. Everyone who saw it was being affected, everyone.” He tapped his earpiece again. “Zhu, get away from it, don’t go in the cell. I don’t care! You and Carmichael, and everyone else, turn on the force field and get back…and then ask everyone in the room to describe the child to you. Sheppard and I are on our way down, no matter what happens or what you see don’t go near it! I’m on my way, just don’t go near it!” He met Sheppard’s eyes. “She tried to argue with me, we’ve got to get down there.” 

Sheppard took the paper scraps out of his hand, glanced at them, and then thrust them into the hands of one of the wide-eyed assistants, a youngish Asian man who looked somewhat more horrified than the rest of them did. “Read those out loud,” he ordered. “It got us all. We’ll be back, in the meantime monitor everyone who’s been around Margot for signs of…well, just for signs, I’m sure if you spot any you’ll recognize them. And see if you can figure out how it’s influencing everyone, and how to stop it.” 

And then he and Rodney left the infirmary at a dead run. Because if Margot got out now, it was possible they’d never find her – nobody knew what she looked like. 

 

It was two hours before Sheppard and McKay made it back to the infirmary, and they found the staff frantically running tests but not making much headway. Rodney’s demand for answers got them a vague description of the enzyme they’d found and how it worked, but nobody had any idea yet how to counteract it. And they were all avoiding the corner of the room where Carson was, awake and pulling against the straps that were holding him down to the bed he was on, pulling frantically and almost hyperventilating.  “You don’t understand, you’ve got to get her, she’s got to eat!” he was yelling.  “My little girl…she’s goin’ to get sick, you’re goin’ to kill her if you don’t let her come to me!”  The doctor almost choked on a sob.  “My little girl…” 

“No, she’s not.”  Sheppard grabbed the man’s head and forced him to make eye contact.  “Carson, you have to listen to me,” he insisted firmly.  “You’re not thinking clearly, all right?  That isn’t a little girl, it’s not even human.”  He shook the doctor slightly, then a little more forcefully.  “No, it’s not,” he overrode Carson’s protest.  “Listen to me!  That thing’s been pumping you full of some chemical, it’s been brainwashing you!” 

But it was obvious that the doctor wasn’t really taking in what Sheppard was saying; he was still fighting the straps, shaking his head violently to reject the words he’d probably only halfway taken in anyway.  McKay stopped Sheppard from trying again and shoved him aside.  “Dr. Beckett, we have a medical emergency,” he said urgently.  “You’ve got to help me, I don’t know what to do.” 

To Sheppard’s surprise, Carson’s struggling stopped and he turned unfocused blue eyes on the astrophysicist.  “M-medical emergency?” 

“Someone on the staff got injected with an experimental enzyme – it was an accident,” McKay elaborated.  “I’m the only one who can get to him.  He’s irrational and starting to turn violent, and I think he might hurt himself – and he wants more of the drug, I’ve had to restrain him to keep him from going after it.  Tell me what to do.” 

“Violent…irrational.”  The blue eyes narrowed again slightly.  “Whatever it is, it’s obviously affectin’ brain function.  And it must be addictive or he wouldn’t be cravin’ it.  You did the right thing, restrainin’ him.  You said it’s an enzyme?” 

“It has a chemical protein marker that promotes the release of certain hormones in the body.”  McKay had moved to block the doctor’s view of Sheppard and the rest of the room.  “There has to be a way to stop the reaction so we can save him.” 

“That would be a counter-enzyme, most likely.”  Carson had started to frown, and aside from the occasional aimless twitch he was no longer fighting the straps.  “But we’d need to run an analysis of the victim’s blood for that and it’s goin’ to take time to get the results – time he might not have.”  He looked more alert now.  “But the more agitated he becomes, the worse the reaction is goin’ to get.  You need to sedate him.” 

McKay nodded.  “With what?  We were afraid anything we give him might kill him.” 

“It’s a risk you’re goin’ to have to take.”  The doctor closed his eyes, and the twitching started to pick up.  “The more violent he becomes, the more likely it is he’s goin’ to hurt himself before we can help him.  And it’s possible that without more of the drug the reaction will decrease on its own.”  His voice had been winding down, forcing McKay to lean closer to hear him, but suddenly his eyes snapped back open and he yelled, “Where is MY LITTLE GIRL?!” 

McKay all but fell back into Sheppard, his face paper white.  “My God.  I thought we had him…” 

“You did, for a minute.”  Sheppard patted his shoulder and then tugged him away from the raving man on the bed.  “Come on, we need to find a sedative to give him.”  He winced when one of the restraining straps cut into fragile flesh and the stiff material began to stain dark with blood.  “The strongest one he’s got in here – and we’ve got to hurry.” 

By the time they’d found what they needed and had one of Beckett’s assistants prepare the correct dosage, the doctor had worn himself out and was once again reduced to twitching impotently against his restraints.  He barely opened his eyes when the med tech started gingerly swabbing off a spot on one blood-streaked arm in order to inject him with the sedative they’d decided to use.  “My…little girl,” he croaked, his voice all but gone.  “Killin’…my little girl.” 

“No, she’s killing you,” Sheppard told him.  “But not for very much longer if we have anything to say about it.”  He didn’t quite manage not to step back when the doctor made a weak attempt to lunge for him – and in doing so inflicted more damage on himself.  “Dammit, get him knocked out now!” he ordered. 

The needle slid home, and they waited.  It didn’t take long, and after what little fight was left in Carson gave out Sheppard started giving orders again.  “McKay, you stay here and keep an eye on things, I have something I have to go take care of.”  He raised a hand to stop the astrophysicist from commenting.  “Just…don’t say it.  I’ll be back when…when I’m done.” 

He was back half an hour later, a curiously blank expression on his face as he quietly walked into the infirmary .  Beckett looked much better now, still pale but sleeping deeply and peacefully under the influence of the strong sedative he’d been given.  His people had cleaned him up, changed his bloodstained clothes for a clean set of infirmary scrubs and bandaged the lacerations left over from his struggle against the restraints.  McKay was sitting on the next bed, just watching him breathe.  “Well?” he asked, not turning his head. 

Sheppard just shrugged.  “He looks better.” 

“He’s a mess.”  McKay’s voice had a hard edge to it.  “The sedative damn near killed him, he’s just barely stable now.”  He snorted.  “But he was right, the effects of the enzyme are decreasing on their own.  The last set of tests indicate that his body is rejecting the alien proteins now that Margot isn’t reinforcing them regularly.  He should be all right in a week or so – physically, anyway.” 

“He might not remember.” 

“He might not, but I’m pretty sure the rest of us will.”  Now McKay did turn his head, raking hard blue eyes over the other man.  “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Eventually.”  Sheppard scrubbed his hands against his pants, rubbing off blood that wasn’t there, had never been there.  He’d never even opened the cell door, just turned off the force field and fired.  Twice.  “Someone’s going to need to go down and get that…thing, and bring it back here to do whatever they need to do with it.” 

McKay was still looking at him.  “Does it still look…” 

“No, thank god.  It changed…well, as it died.  It’s sort of purple and scaly now.” 

“Oh.”  McKay read between the lines, realized that no man who’d just shot an angelic-looking blonde toddler could really be okay, and stood up.  He walked over to the major, grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the doctor’s bedside, then took one of his hands and pushed it down in the center of Carson’s chest.  “If it hadn’t died, he would have.” 

Sheppard just stood there.  From this close he could see the bandages, all of them.  He couldn’t help but remember the way Carson had been screaming, fighting the restraints, hurting himself on them in his enzyme-induced desperation to save the monster that had been slowly, happily killing him.  And he could feel the doctor’s heart beating against his palm, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of the scrubs he was wearing.  

He could also feel McKay’s hand on top of his.  He could feel it shaking. 

“It wasn’t a little girl,” he said.  To Carson.  To Rodney.  To himself.  “It wasn’t a little girl.  I did not just shoot a crying two year old once in the head and once in the chest.  It was a monster.” 

Rodney’s fingers tightened on top of his, gripping his hand.  “It was a monster, John.  You had to kill it.  We couldn’t have fed it, just like we couldn’t feed the Wraith we caught.” 

“You mean Steve.” 

“Steve, of course.”  Rodney’s fingers twitched again.  “If you hadn’t killed it, sooner or later it would have gotten out – it would have gotten someone to _let_ it out.  And then it would have found Carson and killed him, and he would have let it.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.”  He turned his head, looked down into those intense blue eyes.  “For a minute, I thought…I thought it wasn’t going to change.” 

McKay blinked.  “I didn’t know it would either.  The only person who knew what it really looked like was Carson, if he even knew.”  He swallowed.  “That autopsy needs to be done before he comes to.  Why don’t I help you bring the body up here, and then we’ll go get a drink.” 

“A drink?”  Sheppard raised an eyebrow at him.  “I won’t deny I need one, but where…” 

“I have…well, I have a still.  Down in my lab.”  McKay looked a little embarrassed.  “A man has to have a hobby.” 

Sheppard, in spite of himself, started to smile.  He pulled his hand away from where it had been resting and patted the astrophysicist on the shoulder.  “You know, I think that’s a hobby I might be interested in learning more about.” 

McKay found a smile of his own.  “I’d be happy to help you with that, Major.  Why don’t we get our chores done and then I’ll show you what I’ve accomplished so far?” 

“Knowing you, I bet it’s a lot.  Let’s go.” 

The two men left the room together, talking in vague terms about the ‘hobby’ and what had to be done to keep it under Weir’s radar.  And if Sheppard couldn’t help but look back as they walked through the door, McKay pretended not to notice.


End file.
